


Real

by dramady, jeck



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-15
Updated: 2010-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-06 12:06:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/pseuds/jeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Derek feels the need to remind John of what's real and what's not.<br/>[This is a coda to "What He Beheld" ; Warning for uncle-cest]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Real

  
His hands shoved in his pockets, deep in his pockets, balled into fists, John couldn't look away. He was perched in the doorway, not allowed farther in, his mom blocking his view of all but Cameron's head. Her hair was singed and part of her skin burned away from her forehead. John felt something catch in his chest; an ache. "Is she going to be alright?" He asked, yet again, one too many times judging from the look Sarah shot him. "John, she's going to be fine. Go somewhere else. You're making me nervous."

Cameron looked up and over at him. "Rebuilding should be complete in twenty-four to thirty-two hours, barring any unforeseen system malfunctions."

John supposed that should've made him feel better.

Derek was standing with his feet apart, arms crossed over his chest behind John and frowning. He caught the look thrown at him by Sarah and he nodded once, just a very small, hardly visible movement. He slung an arm around John's shoulder and led him away from the door, closing it before guiding the younger man to his own room. "She's going to be fine," he said, almost, but not quite, shoving John in the room, closing the door behind him and he stayed there. Blocking it with his feet apart, arms crossed over his chest and looking intensely at John. "Get over it."

"In case you missed it? She was _blown up_," John huffed, subconsciously mimicking Derek's stance, brow furrowed, tension evident in the lines of his slight body. "I think I have a right to be a little bit worried!"

"Worried about what? _It_ is _not human!_" Derek's voice was low, not at all loud but the displeasure in his voice was evident; it rumbled in the room. "Or have you forgotten that?" He took a step closer to John, eye to eye with Derek's gaze sharp and intense almost as if he was forcing John to go against him on this one. Go ahead. Prove me wrong.

"No," John retorted, almost sullenly, refusing to meet his uncle's eyes, head down, hands stuffed back in his pockets. "But _I_ sent her back. Remember?" He looked up fleetingly. "What if it had been you? Me? Huh? What then? Obviously somebody figured out something! Enough to rig the explosion!"

"_You_ sent her back to protect you," Derek all but growled, taking a step forward and leaning down until he stood nose to nose with John. "And that's what she did. Protect _you_." He had his hands fisted at his sides now, just so he could keep from grabbing John and shaking some sense into him.

"And she's injured!" What didn't Derek get about this?! "What am I supposed to do, Derek?!" John asked, nearly pleading, arms thrown wide, even if he did still have trouble meeting his uncle's eye. "If you're so smart!"

Derek did growl now, grabbing on to John's collar and heaving him until his back hit the wall with a thud. "She's _NOT_ injured! She's a machine!" He pressed himself onto John, breathing in pants against his face, John's hair obscuring his eyes blowing with each exhale. "Do I need to fucking remind you what's human and what's cyborg?" This came out low and grated with Derek's face looking fierce, a sharpness in his gaze.

John's eyes were wide, his breath short in his chest. Derek was _really_ close; he could feel the lines of his uncle's body. And yet, he still couldn't meet his gaze. "I _know_, okay? I know." But Derek wasn't moving back. He wasn't moving away. Why wasn't he moving away? John was having trouble breathing, still, inhaling the musk of sweat. He felt his body flush; too close. Derek was too close. But he couldn't get away; Derek was too strong. "I know," he tried again, even if it came out breathless and soft.

"Do you?" Derek's eyes flashed, a bit of a predatory gleam in them. He didn't look away, didn't even blink. Instead he pressed even closer to John and freeing one hand he cupped his chin and turned that face to look his way. "Look at me and say that. Tell me again how Cameron's a machine with no soul." He could see the flush to John's face and it stirred something else deep inside Derek that right that moment, he chose to ignore.

Pinned, John tried to look away, but couldn't, swallowing hard around the ball in his throat. How could he say that? How could Derek ask him to? John frowned, mustering all the will he could. "She's a machine. With no soul." _Now let me go_, he should have said. But instead, he just stared. Soon, Derek would let him go and he could work to forget how sinfully good this was starting to feel. John's cheeks flushed with shame at even having an _inkling_ of _anything_ like this. Dirty, hot shame.

Derek could see the pink to John's cheeks and he quickly wondered if this was the result of Derek forcing him to say the same words that came from John himself. Maybe he was getting angry at Derek for pinning him to the wall which only made Derek smirk because he liked this. Liked having the upper hand. A loud crash sounded from the other room and Derek looked up, ear toward the door only to hear Sarah telling Cameron to lie back down. _Stupid machine_.

John had jumped too which had only emphasized how much taller and stronger Derek was and how firmly he was pressed to the wall. Why wasn't he being let go? This wasn't _fair_. "Derek," he finally hissed. "You made your point, now let me go." Soon, before John embarrassed himself anymore, feeling a stirring where there wasn't supposed to be any. _Fuck_. He closed his eyes tight.

Derek felt that and the smile slowly crawled over his face. He pushed his thigh between John's legs and slowly pressed down, his face inches away from John. "Feel that?" He grabbed both of John's wrists and pinned those to the wall, nudging the younger man with the tip of his nose to John's cheek. "That's real."

Before he could bite down on it, a small sound escaped and John just screwed his eyes shut tighter. His dick was really hard now and it was all he could do not to hump Derek's leg. Still, his face flushed. He could feel the breath on his cheek and it only spiked his arousal higher. "Stop it," he tried to hiss but it came out a whine. "Derek...come on."

"You never asked me to stop before," he grinned wickedly. "Then again that was when you just turned thirty. And you were drunk." Derek began to rub his thigh harder against John's groin, feeling the hardness there. "Reacted the same way, if I recall." His eyes flashed and then he leaned even closer that their noses brush. "Still want me to stop?" This John is not unlike future John. Derek's hands began to move up John's arms, then down his sides, resting on his hips and pushing against the jut of bone.

Eyes blown wide with pupils to match, John stared. Yes, _that_ bit of news finally got eye contact. In his chest was a noxious mix of emotions; desire, nerves, fear, and a good shot of self-loathing. He'd _slept with his uncle when he turned thirty._ Or should that be he sleeps? Will sleep? _Jesus Christ_, no matter, it was _wrong_ no matter the time or place or situation. _Incest_. The word strafed through him leaving him breathless. But his cock twitched and hard. Willing himself to still at the wicked things Derek's hands were doing to him, he said through numb lips. "We didn't." But even as he said it, he knew Derek wouldn't lie, not about this. Cameron had said he'd trusted Derek. One of his most trusted.

All this flew through John's head too fast. Even as his traitorous body sizzled and burned with want. "Derek--"

John saying his name like that took him back to the future, the same voice, the same way John said his name. It made him harden even more, his own erection pressing against John's thigh. "You should have told me then," yes, time was messing with his head now, so was the John he was now with. "That I was your uncle. Should have trusted me. I guess that's why you sent me back. Letting me think that it was better I wasn't there, huh? That's why. But I guess you never factored in that I would actually meet you here." His eyes turn predatory and then he was breathing harsh and warm on John's cheek. "But I'm here now and so're you. No more running away. Because even if you're my brother's son--this?" Derek kissed him. It was demanding and brutal and his lips moved almost devouring as Derek delved in to taste what he knew was his. He pulled back and released those lips but not before tugging at John's bottom lip with his teeth. "This is real." And then Derek kissed him again.

Pain. John's head cracked against the wall with the force of the kiss. _Pleasure_. The kiss robbed him of thought and breath. His arms, unpinned, though, acted without his consent, wrapping around Derek's neck, hands balled fists. What did they do when he turned thirty, he wondered, but only for a second as he felt, through two pairs of rough denim, his uncle's cock start to press, repeatedly, against his own. He was sixteen, not thirty. This was too much. Too good and too much all at once. It was going to happen; it had already happened-- take your pick. "Derek--" he whispered again, this time against his uncle's lips. "More," he said this time, face burning impossibly hotter.

Yes. That was it. John was reacting just as Derek liked it. Just as Derek expected. He pushed him bodily against the wall and deepened the kiss, hands skating over his sides, his chest, back down to his hips and settled there for a moment until he heard that one word that he did not expect to hear from John. _More_. That made Derek pull back and slowly he grinned, hands on John's hips sliding under his shirt and pulling it off quickly, warm hands sliding over smooth chest while his eyes continued to stare. "Remember how this feels. Each time you think that machine of yours is real? That it can feel?" He panted, his voice rough and grated as he leaned over and closer, lips touching lips but Derek continued to speak. "It can't. Because this," he pinched a nipple between his fingers, other hand trailing down to cup John's erection. "This is what it's like to feel." The kiss started up again.

Eyes closed, muscles taut under his skin, John did the only thing he could; he kissed back, holding to Derek's shoulders to keep from falling down. He was lost, in the roughness of the stubble against his chin, in the even rougher hands that drew from him a pleasure that almost hurt. His first time, when he'd imagined it, hadn't ever been like this. It'd been with a girl, for one, but it involved a bed and filtered lighting and-- "Unngh!" He gasped when Derek palmed over him again. "Derek," John groaned, rutting into the grip. "Derek!"

_Fuck!_ John better stop saying his name like that because it was doing a number on his head. A visual too vivid but the feel of it different. Although still on the slender side, John of the future felt stronger, more firm, slightly taller and with rough stubble and shorter hair. His hands... Oh, those hands knew how to touch, too. More sure and not just clutching to hold on. But the voice? It was the same. The way his name was said, exactly the same.

All this spiraled in his mind that Derek abruptly pulled back, suddenly realizing that this is a different John. A very young one, at that. With his mother in the other room. Derek couldn't decide if this was a situation he needed to deal with or if it was a complete turn-on.

The way John was panting, the flush to his cheeks that Derek reached to touch, and those eyes, not to mention hard cock pressing against him was enough to convince him that this felt too good to resist, or stop. So he pressed his lips against the side of John's throat, kissing then biting, both hands going to unbutton and open his fly, fingers brushing over John's erection.

John-- this John, now-- whimpered when he felt that hot, rough hand circle his dick and for a second, he was pretty sure he was going to come right then and there, the pleasure was that intense. The closest he'd had was jerking off in the bathroom with the shower running and this-- this was so much more than that. Oh, god. God. The teeth in his skin, the hand. His own thought process short-circuited and all he could do was hold on, wanting no more than to feel more of this sinful pleasure that was eating him alive.

The sounds John made, those whimpers, the soft moans. Oh, how Derek wanted to hear more of that. Yes. More. So he stroked him still biting on tender flesh, clamping it between teeth and sucking while he pushed against that slim body, his own straining erection pressing down John's hips. "If you wanna stop know. Say it," Derek pants, wrist flicking as he tugged John's length. "Say it now cos real soon I won't be able to."

So John didn't say a word, going so far as to bite his lip to keep from making any noise that would make Derek stop. His chest was heaving as he breathed, his hips rocking, his fingers digging into Derek's shoulders, head back, neck bared, and marked. He was claimed, just like Derek had said. He was Derek's. No stopping. Not now. Not when he was thirty.

Nothing.

Derek kept stroking and he waited for a few beats and still, nothing. His grin widened where his lips were kissing along John's skin. He released him enough to fumble quickly with his fly, opening it, his jeans pushed to his thighs, cock jutting up and out . Derek pushed against John, taking both their erections in his large hand with a hiss of breath and then he started stroking, groaning, kissing John's lips once again.

Oh, _god_. Any remaining brain cells John had were just blown at the feel of Derek's _cock_ next to John's, that rough grip continuing. He all-out whimpered, unable to help it, choking on the noises, on the what was happening. He stared, as best he could, into Derek's eyes, wanting, even then, for his uncle to know that John was here. In this. With him. Oh, _god_. His hips stuttered and he came, hard, his whole body jerking.

He felt the tension and then the splash of warm and wet on his hand and his cock and Derek groaned, hand tightening as he stroked a few more times before he himself was coming with a groan. "Fuck!" He pressed harder on John, lips finding his and kissing him even after their cocks stopped pulsing. Still panting Derek pulled back just enough to look at John, free hand coming up and brushing damp hair away from his face. "Real," was all he said, still staring into John's eyes.

Panting and gasping, all John could do was nod. Derek was holding him up and it was a good thing because it felt like he was boneless. He stared up to his uncle's eyes for a long moment before letting his head fall to his shoulder, breathing in the scent of musk, sweat and sex, as well as Derek's bad aftershave. And it felt, he thought, like home.  



End file.
